


closer yet, deeper still

by avyssoseleison



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Bottom Dean Winchester, Cock Warming, Creampie, Dirty Talk, Emotionally Repressed Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, M/M, Making Love, Painful Sex, Top Castiel, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, or something like that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-01 11:06:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17243129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avyssoseleison/pseuds/avyssoseleison
Summary: Taking Castiel after weeks of involuntary sexual abstinence is at first nothing but painful for Dean. However, with the right amount of kisses, sweet nothings, and Castiel's unwavering patience, he slowly learns to relax and enjoy himself again.





	closer yet, deeper still

_“Cas,”_ Dean gasps out wetly, all of his body tensing up, and Castiel halts at once.

But he does not pull out or away, just freezes as he is, at least with his lower body, hips stilling. His hands, though, gently stroke along Dean’s trembling sides, and his lips press an apologetic kiss between Dean’s shoulder blades.

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Castiel says, in that rough timber of his that he only ever reaches when he is fucking Dean. “Was that too much?”

Dean needs a few moments to compose himself, taking big gulps of air through the mouth. He feels choked up, as if Castiel had been trying to push into his throat, not his ass, and with a distant sense of realization, he wonders if he is panicking. However, he discards the thought quickly, telling himself that there is nothing to panic about, that this is absolutely nothing new, and he slowly shakes his head and presses out a “No,” between his teeth.

_“Dean,”_ Castiel admonishes, and Dean cannot really fault him for that.

Because regardless of what Dean’s mouth says, the tremors running through his body and the frenetic clenching of his hole say something else entirely. “Sorry, it’s just-- I’m-- I just needed a second.” They have waited long enough, after all, and he wants to make this good for Cas, no matter how much it hurts right now. It will feel better in a bit, he remembers as much, so he would rather just grin and bear it until it becomes pleasurable, instead of having Castiel pull away entirely. “It’s fine, now. I’m good. Just-- just keep going.”

However, behind him, Castiel does not push in any further, but lets out a displeased sound, something incredibly familiar for Dean by now.

“Dean, you should be well-aware by now that I will not ‘just keep going’ when it is obvious that I am hurting you.” Although Castiel’s hands are still stroking soothingly over Dean’s, a stark contrast to the sternness of his voice, Dean can all but feel the air quotes in his words. “It has been a while since we had time to enjoy each other like this,” Castiel continues, softer now, in the way he only ever does when he thinks that Dean is not just being irrational, but also trying to harm himself, and wants him to see reason, “it is only natural that your body does not invite me in as easily as it does when we have had more time to ourselves. We can go slower or pleasure each other in different ways if this is too much at the moment; to me, being inside or outside of your body is equally as lovely, as satisfying, so as long as I am with you.”

And _Jesus,_ but Dean’s cheeks, already tinged pink from their sheer endless foreplay, blaze up at Castiel’s choice of words. “Fuck, don’t put it like that,” he complains, as embarrassed as he is turned on by what Castiel has been spouting. Because unfortunately, most of what Castiel says has that kind of effect on him; Cas only needs to whisper some shit like that he would like to have Dean or make love to him into his ear, not even touching or kissing him, and Dean is both blushing and raring to go.

“How else would you like me to put it?” Castiel deadpans; this is not the first time they have been having this kind of discussion, after all.

“I don’t know, dude. Any other way,” Dean says with a shrug, careful not to jostle their hips.

Any way that does not include the words ‘enjoy’, ‘invite’ or ‘lovely’, and especially nothing that implies that whatever they do is tender lovemaking and that Dean is some beautiful soul who is making Castiel the greatest gift on earth by allowing him to fuck him gently for hours. Although, truth be told, Dean does not necessarily _mind_ when their sessions last a bit longer -- much longer than they ever have with any previous partners --, and at some point, usually after his third orgasm, he also does not _mind_ as much anymore when Castiel showers him with kisses and praise for being so open and good for him and accepting him inside so easily.

Unwittingly, Dean feels himself squirm, and okay, so maybe he generally does not _mind_ whatever gentle shit Castiel says and does to him on any regular day, but today is no such day. Today is when Castiel should hurry up, just push into him and get it over with, so that Dean can get used to being fucked again.

Castiel sighs, but still keeps on petting him. “Then I would kindly ask you not to call me ‘dude’ while I am penetrating you, either.”

“Just like I told you not to use ‘penetrate’?”

“Yes,” Castiel says, voice dipping lower again, almost dangerously so, “because I do recall that you asked me not to use ‘penetrate’ and exchange it with ‘fuck’ instead, but I today am even farther from ‘fucking you’ than I am any other day -- from ‘making love to you’ as well, for that matter, which, as you know, is the expression that I prefer. But what I am doing right now is merely to penetrate you, so I will call it accordingly.”

Dean might be easier than he thought, because it takes no more than Castiel berating the use of ‘fuck’ and ‘fucking’ to have his cheeks blush and his nipples perk up. If Castiel ever began to talk as dirty to Dean as he would like him to, chances are that Dean would just come right on the spot, no further stimulation needed. That is how pathetically bad he has it for Cas.

“Okay, whatever, call it what you want,” Dean says, because Castiel’s words reminded him that there is indeed a hard cock currently pushed into his ass, if only by the tip. “Just penetrate or fuck or make love to me already. I know you don’t wanna hurt me and whatever, but I’m fine. I’m okay, really. Just get on with it.”

Castiel still does not move, though, just scoffs audibly, obviously not convinced.

Dean groans in frustration and tips his head forward. Although Castiel will already not be able to see his face, given the position they are in, Dean wants to make sure that his shame-ridden expression stays absolutely hidden.

“Cas,” he begins, fighting to keep his voice even, to not let it crack, “don’t make me beg, okay? I know you won’t hurt me, that you’ll be able to tell even before I will when it becomes too much, but… we haven’t done this in so long and I miss,” he clenches his eyes shut, but even if he cannot see anything, he can still hear his mouth speak the truth, “I miss feeling you inside me, okay? Being close to you in this. You know how much I like it.” God, if anyone but Cas were to listen to this, he would immediately die of shame. His voice finally does break, and he ends in a croaked whisper, “How much I need you.”

This, apparently, does the trick. Within a moment, Castiel nose nuzzles into the sweaty hair at the back of Dean’s head, his lips kissing the burning skin there. One of his hands leaves Dean’s side, only to reappear where their bodies are connected, skirting a finger carefully around Dean’s taut rim.

“I need you, too,” Castiel promises between kisses, and Dean feels the same warmth rising within him as the first time Castiel said it,the first time he ever returned the sentiment, against all hope. “But you have to tell me if it becomes too much. I don’t want to hurt you, Dean. I only want to bring you pleasure.”

“Yeah, okay,” Dean pants, riled up just by the kisses and the promise of what is to come, “I’ll tell you, I swear.”

“Hmmm,” Castiel hums thoughtfully, “then allow me to relax you first.”

Dean lets out a little choked-off moan, and Castiel sees is for the go-ahead that it is.

So, Castiel meticulously begins to cover the back of Dean’s neck with kisses, each one of them placed with such apparent thoroughness that Dean knows he must be trying to catch all of his freckles again. He is fine with that, though, because beside his freckles, Castiel takes care not to leave out any of his sensitive spots, too. He lavishes them with his tongue, wet and almost too much, and uses his spit as a means to tightly seal his lips against his skin, painfully so, and sucks flaming marks into it.

Just from that, Dean knows he is fully hard again, precome pearling at the tip of his cock that is squished into the mattress, being smeared onto the sheets.

As Castiel leaves yet another possessive mark, making use of his teeth too, Dean desperately grips backwards with one hand, using the other to brace himself against the mattress, searching for something to hold onto. He catches Castiel’s hand so easily that he wonders if Castiel has seen him do so or been reaching for his hand, too. Either way, as soon as their fingers are intertwined, Dean draws their combined hands back towards himself, pressing them against the sweaty skin of his chest, beneath which he can feel his the rapid beating of his heart.

It feels safer like this, with Castiel not just covering his back but surrounding him completely, _holding_ him. Although Dean knows that this, of all things, -- this simple and sweet kind of intimacy -- is the last thing he should be embarrassed about in this entire situation, and that Castiel keeps telling him that there is nothing  he should be ashamed of wanting or asking for and that he would never condemn him for any of his wishes, he cannot help but feel that this is somehow even _more_ than everything else they are doing. A surer sign of how softer and more vulnerable he has become, of how much farther he has strayed from the path that his father had laid out before him so long ago, of how completely he is gone on Cas.

Before he can mull on it any longer, Castiel’s lips drag against the shell of his ear, breath hot and heady, and the hand still holding Dean’s splays out above Dean’s heart without quite losing their entanglement, caressing him. With anyone else, Dean might think that what he is trying to do is to play with his nipples, which do perk up at the touch, but with Castiel, he knows that he is searching for the beating of Dean’s heart, feeling how quickly it beats, how excited Dean is.

And Castiel must also surely feel it skipping a beat, when he repeats, so quietly that only Dean could hear it, “I need you, too.”

Maybe it is the change in angle from Dean taking Castiel’s hand or maybe it is because holding his hand never fails to calm him down or maybe it is because Dean is stupidly in love with the angel and would give him anything he could ever ask for, but without any discomfort or pain, Castiel suddenly sinks deeper inside of him. Apparently just as surprised at the unexpectedly easy acceptance of his body as Dean is, Castiel gasps and presses his forehead against the back of Dean’s neck, where he can feel him smile.

“Oh, thank you, Dean. You are so good for me,” Castiel praises him breathlessly, making Dean reflexively tighten up for a moment, and then loosen up again, obviously even more so than before because Castiel slides even deeper into him, panting now. “Just like that, Dean. _Yes._ You are incredible,” he scatters sloppy kisses onto Dean’s neck, interrupting himself every so often with gasps of pleasure, each time he manages to push more of himself into Dean, “so relaxed for me, welcoming me inside.”

Dean cannot help but moan at Castiel’s words and the feeling of him sinking so deeply into him, so _completely,_ that his balls press against Dean’s butt cheeks, silken skin against soft globes, but still, Castiel tries to reach even deeper.

With tight little thrusts, he ruts into Dean, never pulling out more than is absolutely necessary, as if the very idea of ever leaving the welcoming heat of Dean’s body again is ridiculous. And Dean would not even want him to -- now that he feels that fullness again, that pleasure mixed with the already fading ache, he questions how they could have thought that there was no time for this within the last few weeks, how they could ever voluntarily miss out on this.

Castiel settles almost his full weight onto Dean, his entire body a long, heavy line against Dean, from head to toe, pressing him down into the mattress and his cock fully inside of him. With the hand not guiding Dean back into his thrusts, with the one currently entangled with Dean’s, he pulls Dean back against him, and both of them even closer together. It is warm like this, almost too hot, and all the more intimate for it. Castiel’s thrusts slowly into him, desperately kissing and breathing against his neck and cheeks.

“Look at me, Dean,” Castiel requests, and as soon as Dean does, his lips are covered by Castiel’s, taken in feverish kisses. Even if their kisses can barely be called kisses at all, as Castiel is panting too much and Dean moaning too often for their lips to meet properly. But they feel good, like the last missing part of a puzzle finally slotting into place.

Dean easily goes with the movement of Castiel’s lips, hands, and hips, just takes whatever Castiel gives him, what both of them have been craving for weeks now. Having Castiel’s cock inside him does not ache anymore by now, it just feels big and hard in that relentlessly owning way that Dean loves about being fucked by men, and especially by Cas. Because he knows that he really does belongs to Cas, in the same way that Cas belongs to him.That they have branded each other for their entire existence, given each other their all, their everything. So, to have Castiel fill such a vulnerable part of Dean with himself, to reach into him so deeply and make him feel _so good,_ feels nothing but logical, absolutely _right._

At last, Castiel picks up some speed, if only to the extent that he can in their position. At the same time, Dean feels his orgasm beginning to build inside of him.

_“Cas,”_ Dean moans, a warning, a plea, an echo of sometime before, but this time, there is no pain in his voice, nothing but pleasure. He tilts his hips up as best as he can, to finally do so as Castiel called it, _inviting_ him in.

_“Dean,”_ Castiel groans in reply, obviously just as drunk on pleasure as Dean is, and tightens the grip of both of his hands on Dean. “Dean, I want to come inside you,” Castiel says, though it sounds like a question, a plea of his own.

Although Dean had been the one to suggest not using any condoms once they went steady and after some initial hesitation -- because although none of them could get sick or pregnant, it was still different to be inside of someone without any kind of protection, more intimate --, Castiel was the one who went absolutely wild once they did. The first time they did it bare, Castiel came after only a few thrusts, moaning and praising all throughout it, and coming so undone by the experience that they never went back to condoms again. Instead, they explored Castiel’s serious kink for coming inside of Dean, enjoying him without barriers and marking him in a deeply primal way, the only time that the animal part of his vessel truly takes over.

“Yeah, babe, fill me up,” Dean encourages him, savoring how much harder Castiel’s thrusts and his cock are getting, losing himself completely, along with any doubts and inhibitions, just allowing himself to be swept away by the crest of his pleasure, his words flowing freely. “Lemme feel it, make me yours. Show me that I belong to you, no one else, only _you_. Just like you're mine. You're _mine,_ and fucking _it_ for me, my goddamn best friend, only you can have me, and-- _ah!"_

Dean cuts himself off, his orgasm rendering him completely silent as it overcomes him, all of his body tensing up, taut in Castiel’s grip and around his cock.

Distantly, he feels Castiel fucking him through it, making some encouraging and excited sounds, because if there is one thing that Castiel loves as much or even more than coming inside of Dean, it is making _Dean_ come. Which is why it does not take more than a few rough, desperate thrusts until Castiel shoves himself as deeply as he can inside of him and fills him up, warm and wet and with a heartfelt moan of Dean’s name.

Dean clenches around the hard length inside him as he feels him spill, wanting to make it good for Cas and also enjoying the ache that comes from clenching just a tad too tightly, right at the edge between pain and pleasure. As he does, Castiel speaks Dean’s name again upon a shudder, whispers it with such reverence that it almost sounds like a prayer.

They stay like this for a long time. With Castiel buried deep, even if softening, inside of Dean, and Dean sheltered beneath him, enjoying his weight and warmth, his adoring kisses all over his face and neck, and just resting his head on Castiel’s thick arm. Every now and then, Castiel gives a weak roll of his hips, eliciting a squelching sound and a weak clench of Dean’s hole, but nothing more than this. After all, its only purpose is as a reminder that Castiel is still within him, that their bound is unbroken, they are still united in body and soul, both of their existences infinitely intertwined, and will remain so.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year, friends!  
> As always, you can find me (and much more of my writing) on [my blog](http://avyssoseleison.tumblr.com/).


End file.
